__How Rupert Got His Groove Back__
By Freerose
GILES
"Wesley? " I call out as I struggle to my feet. I admit that I have
spent the last few moments being more worried about myself than him,
which is probably very wrong and selfish of me.
"Wesley? Answer me, Man!"
I hear a low moan from the other side of a large rock.
"Oww." Wesley is crawling onto his knees, a great deal less covered
in Bovine Excrement than I am.
"Anything broken or bruised?"
"No-I don't believe so. Just my dignity "He grimaces. "And my bike."
"What happened? No. Don't tell me. "
"Just my usual clumsiness. "
"You flew over the fence! We could have been killed. "I'm angry now.
*Take deep breaths and count to ten slowly*
*It's not his fault. It's not his fault. It's not his fault. *
"This is all your fault!" I explode. Which is the worst thing I could
possibly say, and I so rarely lose control of my emotions that it
also throws me for a second.
"I wasn't the one playing childish games and groping other people!"
"You folks alright ?" Some men in plaid jackets have pulled up in a
red pickup truck.
"I'm afraid we've had a slight accident." Wesley explains. They hop
out to inspect the damage.
"We could drive ya inta town, get a mechanic ta luk at that fer yah."
"Thank you, "Wesley moves to climb inside the truck. One of the
farmers, I think might be leering at him, although that could just be
my own over protectiveness extended to include former colleagues
(and best friends of my slayer's ex boyfriend).
"I'll see about finding a motel." I add firmly. "I believe I saw one
on the way in."
An hour later, I unlock the door to Room 112 at the Shady Valley
Motor Inn. I know what Wyndham Pryce is going to say before he says
it, because I had said the same thing when renting the room.
It being the weekend, most of the rooms are full. And this being
Southern California, with everyone trying to prove how tolerant they
can be, the desk clerk has assumed certain things about the two of
us. I have been dreading Wesley's reaction when he steps inside the
room.
"There's only one bed. " He says in a dismayed voice.
******************************************************
WESLEY
Only one bed. I try to control the butterflies in my stomach.
*Sharing a bike with Giles*
*Sharing a bed with Giles*
I hope he can't see the flush that I know is creeping into my
cheeks. Giles would laugh at me if he ever found out the way I feel.
He sees, and laughs anyway, although not for the same reasons.
"Relax. It won't make us less macho-we're all friends here. "
*Friends. Sure. *
"I'm in desperate need of a shower-Do you mind if I take one?"
"No, please. Go ahead. " I say, sinking down onto the edge of the
mattress. Giles closes the door behind him. I'm wondering how I'm
going to get through the next 24 hours. Trapped in a seedy motel
room with the object of my desire-a man I both worship and fear who
has let me know how little he respects me.
*Equal parts Angel and my father. I think I have some serious
problems. *
I slip outside to the vending machine-and stand staring at the vast
array of stale junkfood I have to choose from: Cheetos, Fritos,
Doritos, Skittles, Starbursts,Swedish Fish, Pop Corn, Pop Tarts,
breath mints, M+Ms, Snickers, Milky Ways, Three Musketeers,
Twinkies. As someone who was not allowed sweets as a child, I find
the situation overwhelming.
I choose a bag of regular crisps and insert what I hope is the
correct amount of change. It is but the machine still won't give me
my food. I punch the numbers again.
"God-I'm so hungry!"
"If you kick it, it usually works." says a female voice. I turn
around, and a pretty honey blonde is standing near the machine. "Like
this-"And she gives it a swift kick. My snack comes tumbling out,
along with four extra that I haven't paid for.
"Thank you." I say as I pull out my stake and dust the vampire. "Much
appreciated."
Giles is out of the shower when I re-enter our room. I stop short
because I had forgotten that he rushed out of his house so fast that
he didn't bring an extra change of clothing. And with his other
clothes covered with manure…
He's in his boxers. I'm perilously close to swooning. Swooning in an
extremely Manly Sort Of Way of course.
"Shower's free."
"Oh, yes. Thank you. I-uh-got some snacks from the machine
outside. "And that's all the conversation I can get out before I have
to close the bathroom door and lock it. I start to peel off my t-
shirt and motorcycle pants, wishing against my own better judgement
that it were Giles taking off my clothes. I mustn't think such
thoughts. It's futile and inappropriate.
********************************************************
GILES
He seems more nervous than usual. It's always possible that he
thinks I'm still angry with him for crashing the bike, if so, I'll
have to be nicer to him when he gets out of the shower. After all, it
certainly wasn't his fault. I should never have distracted him while
he was driving. One of us needs to act like a grownup-and since I am
approaching middle age, it should probably be me.
However, this whole Wesley situation has thrown me for a loop in
general. I haven't been attracted to another man in 20 years. And
Wesley Wyndham Pryce, of all men to be attracted to: the annoying child
who invaded my life and took over, and who is now naked and
soapy in the next room and I really shouldn't be thinking like that.
I hear the water shut off and various busy thumping sounds from the
other side of the door.
Wesley's hair is drying, mussed up in an endearing way. His glasses
are off and he is barefoot. Of course, he always travels with a
change of clothing, not the sort to be caught off guard, clothing
wise. However, not the full on pajama set that I had expected.
Wesley pulls back the quilt and slips into bed. He lies with his back
to me, on his side and keeps his mouth shut for once. I turn away so
that I won't have to look at him and feel so guilty: guilty for
having hated him until recently. Guilt for thinking that he looks
quite adorable in his grey sweatpants and t-shirt.
"Goodnight, Wesley."
"Goodnight, Rupert."
********************************************************
GILES
Wesley is hogging the quilt. It's times like this that make me want
to smack him.
His long dark lashes brush against his cheek, his mouth is open
slightly and one delicate bare foot hangs off the edge of the
mattress. It's times like this that make me want to shag him.
Wesley mumbles something in his sleep and throws one arm over my
shoulder. I debate over whether or not to remove it. He's not very
heavy, and his weight feels natural against me. He sighs and shifts.
Our bodies are now as uncomfortably close as they were on the bike.
Wesley suddenly becomes more agitated. I whisper soothing words and
stroke his dark hair. Wesley opens his eyes and looks at me sleepily.
"Giles? Why am I-?" Realization dawning. "I didn't mean-I'm sorry-"
"Wesley-"
He's out of the bed and as far away from me as he can get.
"Dammit, Wesley. Why didn't you say something ?"
"About what? I don't have feelings for you, if that's what you
think!"
"All I know is that being around you drives me mad! You're immature
and you annoy the hell out of me! You never shut up and you scream
like a girl! I HATE YOU! But I want you more that I can stand. "
Suddenly he is back near the bed again.
"You want me?" He asks softly. "Here I am." And he's on his knees,
and fumbling with the front of my shorts. It takes me a second to
realize that he is in fact, not fumbling. He knows exactly what he
is doing, and he does it very well. I'm growing harder, and I have
to stop him before he swallows, because I know now that he will
unless I tell him not to. I extract myself, cupping his face in my
hands and kneeling down next to him.
"No. Not like that. "
"I-I don't w-want you to hate me. "Tears are streaming down his
cheeks. "P-Please don't hate me. "
Loneliness and frustration and the general overwhelming nature of
just trying to live his life have become too much-and I can feel his
heart thumping away like a frightened rabbit.
"Shhh. You don't have to do anything you don't want to do. " I lick
the tears off his skin, gently, so I can calm him down and sit him
back on the bed. He presses against me in a way that indicates he
wants to do more than just kiss. I realize that we have no way to
protect ourselves.
"No. Not without some sort of protection."
Wesley gets that look on his face that means he's about to start
whining. He sees my expression and changes his mind and smiles.
"They should have a delivery service."
"1-800-Condom? Imagine what the cars would look like!" I joke.
"And the uniforms!" Wesley laughs. "Hurry back-"
"I will. Don't start without me. " I say, putting on the pants and
shirt that are now cow manure free.
"I promise not to."
We're lucky our lodging is situated on the town's main drag (the only
drag actually) and that the drug store is on the same street. I can
walk there.
Once inside I chose a box of condoms quickly-I remember that I want
this to be a pleasant experience for him and I also pick up a tube of
something else necessary and walk toward the register.
When we first arrived in town, I had noticed that there weren't many
people about. Now I know why.
They were, and still are, all at the drug store apparently. The queue
is one of the longest I've ever seen in a convenience store.
I want to scream.
When I finally get up to the front, and place my purchases on the
counter, the attendant smirks at me as if to say "Big Night planned?"
I stare back at him coolly as if to say "At Least I have a date."
WESLEY
It's finally going to happen. I think I might faint-or possibly
throw up. And it doesn't help that he's left me here to think about
it, and worry and grow more and more nervous as the minutes pass. I
should get ready for him…but where to start…?
The bed is already turned down.
Should I undress?
Or perhaps he would prefer to undress me?
Or watch me undress.
I want to do this right- I want to be the way he would want me.
The doorknob turns and he enters. Giles takes off his coat and
removes from the plastic bag the things he bought. I start to slide
off the bed to meet him. He takes me in his arms and kisses me, slow
and passionate, moving his hand along my spine. No one's ever held
me or kissed me with such care, and gentleness.
Even Cordelia had an ulterior motive.
Somehow, my shirt has come off over my head, he lays me down on the
bed and removes my pants. I wait while he takes off his own clothes
and joins me. What I see is better than anything I could have
imagined, he's in wonderful shape for an older man. And so hard. I'm
shocked that I could inspire such excitement in anyone.
GILES
Wesley is so beautiful…even more so with no clothing to hide him
from my view. Warm, flushed, lightly tanned, I think it must be
natural because he has no tan lines. I lean in to kiss him again and
accidentally slam his skull into the headboard.
"OWW!" He cries.
"Oh God. Wesley-I'm so sorry!" I grab him and kiss the sore spot.
"You know that doesn't really work, "He smiles, rubbing the place
where he will soon have a bump. "What were we doing again?"
Knowing that I'm getting close, I brush my hand over his arse and
touch him there to communicate how I want things to go. "Is this
something you want? Tell me now."
He nods.
I reach for my purchases. Wesley doesn't blink when I put on the
condom, however-he looks at the tube as if he's never seen one
before. A suspicion is dawning in my mind. I squeeze some out onto
my fingers and position him so that his shapely bottom is sitting in
my lap. Carefully, I show him what to do, he whimpers when my
fingers enter him. He's very tight and that worries me.
I place my hands on either side of his hips and enter him slowly. I
will not be the one to cause him pain.
WESLEY
Giles is inside me- and it feels incredible. I feel myself opening
up for him, letting him deep inside. It's glorious and agonizing and
wonderful and scary. I'm giving him my body, to do with whatever he
wants and he is still treating me with a respect I never knew he had
for me.
I'm soaring, and then I'm falling, and screaming his name. And he is
there, catching me before I hit the ground. Withdrawing himself,
running his hands through my sweat drenched hair. And finally
letting me do what I started to do earlier, only he still doesn't
make me swallow.
As we lie together under the blankets, Giles asks me a question.
"Why didn't you tell me that this was your first time?"
"I thought- you might laugh at me. I've done things-"
"Yes, remind me to thank whoever taught you that."
"But I'd never-had "
"Final, real, sex?"
"Yes. "
"I hope that from now on, you feel you can trust me a little more
than that. And if you ever need some one just to talk to- Come up and
see me in Sunnydale."
The phone rings.
"Hello?"
Anya's irritated voice resonates over the line.
"Willow wants to know, Where the HELL are you guys? "
* * *